


The Paramedic

by shutter_waves_break



Series: Ne Me Quitte Pas [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Paramedic!Stiles, Teen Wolf AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 19:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutter_waves_break/pseuds/shutter_waves_break
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He kept the bracelet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Paramedic

Being a paramedic was one of the most rewarding, and equally most painful, jobs Stiles could ever have imagined having. He’d saved a little girl who’s family had been the victims of a highway fire. He’d saved a woman who’d been beaten nearly to death by her husband, and he’d done the same for a man who caught his wife cheating and had tried to kill himself. He had even pulled a kitten from a tree (he still doesn’t understand why they climb up into trees if they cannot get back down.) He didn’t save EVERY life, which made the job shitty some days, but every life he saved helped to numb the pain of those he’d lost. The adrenaline kept him focused despite the claims of doctors he had ADHD and needed to be on medication round the clock. More than once, he had a ‘fellow’ paramedic try to get him fired because of how he bounced around the firehouse during the dead-space between calls. Just because he had the ability to multitask didn’t mean he couldn’t save lives. The constant motion of simply BEING an EMT kept his brain alive and his senses in check. 

So screw the doctors. 

Stiles had another ten hours to go before his shift ended and he was off for 48 hours. His house hadn’t gotten a call in a little over 18 hours and he was beginning to think the last ten would just float by when the alarms sounded and Scott was shouting. 

“Four alarm in the Hills!” 

Stiles was already flying, bracing himself for a long night, brain already kicked into ‘saving lives’ mode. 

When they arrived, Stiles will never forget the flames reaching out of the top floor windows into the black sky. He grabbed his pack and sprinted towards the huddled mass of firefighters trying to figure out how to move forward. 

“There are six people living inside. Four ran out,” one of the guys gestured toward a group of paramedics and ambulances caring for the four. “The other two are still inside. One adult male and a young girl. He ran out initially but when he realized she wasn’t with the group, he ran back in.”

Stiles swallowed past a thick lump forming in his throat. This all felt eerily familiar. Then he saw them.

“There!” He rushed forward, fully aware of how reckless he was being. Nobody ran towards a burning building, not one this size running on natural gas. It was a ticking timebomb. 

Two figures stumbled out of the house, the smaller one being virtually dragged before they both stumbled down the steps and onto the grass. The larger figure tried to crawl forward, keeping his body over the smaller one. 

Then the explosion rocked everyone. Stiles dropped to his knees, shielding his eyes, feeling the heat across his arms and exposed parts of his head. Debris showered the lawn. 

When he stood back up, he already had his hands in his pack reaching for his gear. Two more EMTs showed up at his side as he tried to assess the situation: the girl underneath the man was crying hysterically. She didn’t seem to have any major injuries so one of the guys picked her up and rushed back to an ambulance. The man wasn’t nearly so lucky. 

The shirt he wore barely clung to the red bleeding skin underneath. Some areas were charred from the force of the explosion, and bits of glass were embedded in the meaty parts of his back. Stiles quickly cut away the remaining pieces of shirt to clear his view as two more people arrived with a stretcher to wheel him out. He heard shouts of another explosion being likely. Everyone was moving away now that the family was clear of the house. Now the only thing left to do was wait until the fire burned itself out. 

As Stiles and his patient were lifted into the ambulance, Scott rolled him up slightly to assess any damages done to his chest and abdomen. That’s when Stiles got a look at his face and he felt that lump grow even bigger. He wanted to scream.

“I need you to tell me your name. Can you do that for me?” Stiles could feel the burning sensation behind his eyelids. He didn’t want to hear his name; he didn’t want to know, didn’t want to confirm what in his bones he knew was true. 

The man coughed harshly: smoke inhalation. Bits of black and red stained the white sheet on the gurney. 

“Der-k…” Another coughing fit, but he didn’t break Stiles’ eye contact. 

Stiles strained a smile out. “Ok Derek. I’m Stiles. I’m gonna be taking care of you. I need you to make noise so I know you’re still with me while we’re working on you ok?” He pulled a mask over Derek’s face. “Keep breathing for me.” He felt his voice cracking and his vision started to blur a little bit. (Keep it together, Stilinski.)

“Hnn… K… St’ls…”

The monitors beeped as Scott hooked Derek up. Stiles started an IV line. It was slightly more difficult since Derek had to remain primarily on his stomach, propped up at an angle. Stiles pushed some morphine, brain on autopilot, his body moving according to whatever his brain said. He didn’t need to think about it anymore. (No different than any other night, Stiles. Just keep him alive. Save his life.)

“When you get all better, I’m taking you out for a drink for being a heroic asshole,” he quipped. 

Derek’s lip quirked along with his eyebrow. He sounded like he tried to laugh, but only ended up coughing harder. 

The rest of the ride to the hospital was a crystal clear blur. Stiles held Derek’s hand, feeling a periodic squeeze. The only time he broke eye contact was to make sure everything was ok with the monitors, answer questions on his walkie, adjust some dials, increase fluids. 

Derek stopped squeezing and Stiles’ breath caught. 

By the time they pulled up to the ER, Derek had flatlined.

Stiles had never lost it before -  but everyone has their breaking point. 

And if Stiles kept the charred chain Derek had around his wrist, he didn’t tell anyone. It must have gotten lost at the scene.

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't hate me.


End file.
